


Marry Me A Little

by Ethel_Mandic



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, Charles in a Wheelchair, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:58:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethel_Mandic/pseuds/Ethel_Mandic
Summary: When Charles finally proposes to his long-time girlfriend it hits Erik like a punch to the gut. Emma Frost is nothing but a gross convenience for business affairs and Charles' own self esteem. Charles refuses to acknowledge the giant mistake he's made and Erik has years of buried regrets suddenly resurface waiting to be dealt with.





	Marry Me A Little

**Author's Note:**

> I don't claim ownership of any Marvel or X-Men stuff (idk how to do this just don't sue me for copyright I own nothing) The title of this work is a song from the musical Company. I don't own Company and the story isn't really based off of anything Company related I just thought the song title fit. The song meaning somewhat differs from the plot... just don't think too hard on it. Feedback is greatly appreciated but please don't be an asshole about it. I hope you enjoy!

Erik watched in horror at the grotesque public display of affection before him.

“Charles,” Emma cooed as she slipped her tongue halfway down his ear while drunkenly petting his face. “D’you looove me?” Erik could barely handle her sober but drunk Emma lost all sense of personal boundaries.

“Of course I love you Emma.” Charles hiccuped, swaying in his wheelchair. Charles, on the other hand, was an intellectual drunk, if there was such a thing. Get enough booze in him and he would talk for hours about his views on politics, art, history or anything really, regardless of how much or little he actually knew to be true. He would babble on relentlessly for hours unaware if anyone was listening or not. Erik listened though, he listened to whatever drunken nonsense Charles would spew out. It was terribly endearing.

“No but do you _love_ me, love me.” Emma giggled.

“Yes, my dear, I _love_ you, love you.”

“I don’t believe you.” she whined pressing her face into his neck. “I don’t think you’ve ever loved me.”

If Raven and Hank hadn't skipped out on drinks at the last minute and left Erik to be the designated driver, he would’ve gotten up and walked out on the two lovebirds right then and there, and if he was feeling really bold he would’ve wheeled Charles out with him.

He’s definitely not that bold.

“I promise you,” whispered Charles, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead, “That I have loved you for a very, very long time now. And I plan to keep loving you for an even longer time.”

The thing  Erik always envied about Charles was how gentle he was. For months he would catch himself imagining himself in Emma’s place; being touched by Charles, held by Charles, kissed by Charles. It was maddening watching his fantasy pan out for someone else, especially someone as undeserving as Emma.

“Then prove it,” she teased “and buy me another drink.”

Erik nearly threw up a bit. Charles, however, seemed unfazed. He chuckled at her, “I think you’ve had enough for tonight love.” He took her glass away from her, “I like to think our entire relationship relies on a little more than the amount of drinks I buy you.” he added.

“Yeah, our entire relationship relies on how much longer it takes you to propose.” Emma muttered not so quietly.

There it was: the one sentence that was the start of dozens of fights, passive aggressive comments, and far too many drunken nights for the both of them. The mere mention of anything marriage related was enough to set them both off on their different tangents.

Charles pretended not to hear, but Erik could see the tired frustration in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. Without a word he wheeled over to the bar to get what Erik presumed would be anything with the highest alcohol content.

It was going to be a long ride home.


End file.
